Stitches in Time
by Firazh
Summary: Or: How to keep your mother from marrying the wrong man. AU: time-travel, oneshot.


Disclaimer: All characters and recognizable story elements belong to J. K. Rowling.

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AN: I have read quite a few time-travel stories, and while I do enjoy them, I always get stumped by the inherent paradox. Personally, I simply do not believe time-travel is possible. At all. The past is the past, and as such does not exist anymore. Just as the future is that place which doesn't exist yet. Life is like an online-game. You don't get to save and redo there, either.

And if it was possible after all, then changing the past really ought to create a loop. The traveller would have to repeat it over and over again, to ensure it stays different. The only way time-travel could be explained otherwise, is through multitudes of alternative realities. However, that theory seems like a bad case of hubris to me, because really, how large or significant would an event have to be to cause a split off in time? Especially considering that measured against eternity, the whole of human existence is nothing but the batting of an eyelid? And about as important?

To allow for time-travel, there would have to be ridiculously many of these alternative time-lines. And going back in time to change just one of them … what would be the point? So, no. I cannot find it in me to believe in time-travel. On the other hand, I can fully understand why the idea is attractive, and interesting. The possibility of fixing things, combined with the whole 'I know how it's going to work out' element of the time-traveller makes for good story-material.

Like this idea of how Harry Potter could successfully keep Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort. Really, it would not be hard at all, provided he goes back in time deliberately and doesn't just get thrown there randomly without warning.

All it takes is little things like: Go and adopt him. Give him a happy childhood. You could even keep his mother from dying. Ensure his father actually accepts him. Kill the basilisk before Riddle finds it. Nick and destroy any books on Horcruxes you can get your hands on. Obliviate any memory of Horcruxes from Slughorn. Keep Dumbledore from being such a manipulative, interfering presence. Make sure he has better friends, and give him an outlet for his world-changing ambitions by getting him into politics.

And so on. The possibilities are endless. How would Harry have the resources for this? Easy. Use your knowledge of the secret tunnels to sneak into the school during holidays. Nip down into the chamber with a handy rooster, kill basilisk, sell for potions ingredients. And once you have some starter money … the well-prepared time-traveller who actually does his homework should know which companies are going to do well and stuff like that. Or simply what events to bet on. Getting bloody rich shouldn't be much of a challenge.

Of course you could also go and simply kill Tom as a baby, which frankly would be distressingly and ridiculously easy. One Avada Kedavra, and you'd have just another sad case of crib death.

Then again, I think we have all read the story about this bloke who tries to kill a baby … so, maybe it's not such a good idea after all. Still, going back a few years earlier and making sure Merope never hooks up with Riddle senior should be quite easy for a Wizard, too.

However, an important stumbling block would come later. Because without Voldemort's influence on house Slytherin, Severus and Lily might quite possibly have stayed together. And Harry has to make sure he gets born, because otherwise the person who went back in time to fix time … doesn't exist. Which is the point where everything starts going very wobbly, in my opinion. Because what would _really_ happen, if the time-traveller doesn't get born?

See, that's why I am personally sticking with: Time-travel simply is not possible.

However, my personal opinion shall not stand in the way of this story, which is about what a time-travelling Harry Potter has to do to ensure he ends up at as Harry Potter … and not Herodotus Snape or something like that ...

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Severus Snape stared in horror at the retreating back of his, now former, best friend. What in Salazar's name had possessed him to call her a Mud-blood? _Why_ had he said that?

He heard a soft, regretful sigh behind him, and whirled around to see … the well known face of the former Minister of Magic, Henry Jameson. The one they called the Grey Eminence. The man looked tired. And also incredibly sad.

"I am very sorry, boy, for doing that to you," he said, and clamping a hand around Severus' arm, started dragging him away.

"Why? What did you do to me?" Severus asked in broken-hearted horror, stumbling after the man without offering much resistance. The love of his life had just walked away from him.

"I imperiused you," the old wizard explained, still pulling the young Slytherin with him.

"What? Why? Let me go!" Severus demanded wildly, his voice shrill. He would have dug his heels in at this point, but Mr. Jameson simply sighed and pushed Severus into the game-keeper's hut. How had they gotten there? He blinked and saw the old wizard wave his wand in a complex pattern at the door. Severus felt some incredibly strong wards spring up in response.

"Please, sit. This will take a while."

Faced with a drawn wand, and a wizard of undeniable power who was obviously willing to use it, Severus sank down on one of the crude chairs, huddling in abject misery.

"Why?" he asked again, hearing his voice break.

"I will explain, though I fear I cannot leave you with any memory of the explanation."

"What good is it then? And you just … you just ..."

"Forced you to say something horrible to her? Ruined your chances with her? I know, and I regret nothing more than having to do so," Mr. Jameson said softly. "But you see, it was unfortunately necessary to break up your relationship with Lily Evans."

"Why?" This time the question was a wail of despair.

"Because she is my mother."

"What?!"

"Correction, she will be my mother. Regrettably, you will not be my father."

Severus stared at the man, wild eyed and confused. The world had apparently gone mad. Or maybe just the old wizard facing him.

"You see, I am a time-traveller, trying to avoid a paradox. About a quarter century in the future, I will travel into the past to prevent the emergence of the worst Dark Lord the world has seen in ages. And I _was_ successful. Instead of an insane, evil megalomaniac who slaughtered multitudes … we now have Lord Thomas Riddle Slytherin, Minister of Magic and generally benign and progressive presence, even though he is a manipulative bastard at the best of times."

Severus' jaw fell open. His throat worked, but he only managed a croak. The other man chuckled darkly and gave him a wry grin.

"Well, knowing all about what had led Tom Riddle down a very slippery and dark road was very helpful in keeping him from it. I simply … removed a lot of temptations from his path, you could say, and ensured he got the things he missed the first time round, like love, affection and friendship."

Jameson's expression grew earnest. And regretful.

"But all that would possibly be for naught, if I do not get born and therefore could not go back in time, you see. So I have to make sure my parents get together."

Severus swallowed. "I see … provided I actually believe you … just who _is_ your father?"

The old wizard sighed unhappily. "That is the part you will not like. At all. Because my name used to be … or rather will be … Harry James … Potter."

"No! Not that arrogant bully … that despicable ..." Severus was lost for words. And white-hot with fury.

"I know. I am sorry. I know he has always treated you very badly. In fact, I will have my work cut out for me to make sure my future self doesn't turn into the arrogant little copy of him you always believed me to be. And I actually did try to keep him from being quite so horrible to you … but that turned out to be one thing in time very hard to change."

The young Slytherin looked confused. But the man's calm acceptance of Severus raging at James Potter took the wind out of his sails. As well as his obvious sympathy with Severus' plight.

"Anyway, in my original time-line, you did say that word to Lily … quite without me helping you along. Your life up to that point had been … a bit different. You were already very embittered. So you stopped being friends, James and Lily eventually got together after my father managed to grow up a tad and well … at some point I was obviously born. But then my parents were murdered when I was still a baby. By the Dark Lord that Tom Riddle didn't turn into this time. And … you were part of the reason he went after them."

"What? No!"

"You became one of his followers, I am sorry to say. And you overheard this stupid prophecy which was made about him and me, and took it to him, which turned the Potters into a target. Once you realised that, you turned into a spy for Dumbledore. So let me tell you, you may believe I ruined your life today, but that's nothing compared to how ruined your life became by your own efforts last time."

"I don't believe you!"

"I can understand that. But in any case, after they died I was raised by Petunia Evans and her family… yes, I see you know what that would have meant … and no, they didn't like me at all. I had this absolutely smashing childhood. Not. You meanwhile, came to teach potions at Hogwarts. And believe me, while you are brilliant at potions, you make a really lousy teacher."

Severus shuddered in agreement.

"And then you took out your hatred for James Potter on _me_ when I came to Hogwarts, believing me to be an arrogant little copy of him. Which I wasn't, but you never bothered yourself with finding out."

"So is this some kind of … revenge … for you? Destroying my life?"

The former Minister sighed again. "No. I already said … I need to keep the changed time-line from unravelling in case I don't get born. I have to keep it all … stitched together. Because if I don't get born … who went back? So the one thing I need to preserve at all costs … is my own existence."

The man had a far-away look in his eyes. "This is really all a big unknown. I do not know exactly what will happen. Maybe this piece of time has become … a loop, and versions of me are doomed to repeat it over and over again. Always hoping I do not mess it up. Or perhaps this was the first and only time, and once it has happened, it will stay fixed. Like a dropped stitch that is picked up again … later it would be impossible to tell it had happened."

Jameson ran a hand through his windswept hair, smiling at Severus ruefully. "But I simply do not know. I merely hope for the best, you see."

"All I know is that since I played with time, I must pay the price. And do what I must. Whatever it is. Unfortunately, you and your love for Lily Evans are the biggest stumbling block for my existence. That is why … I had to split you up. And yet, that love was our salvation."

"What do you mean?"

"In the original time-line, without that love you hold for her … there would not have been any chance at all. We still failed … the Dark Lord had become too powerful, and made himself all but immortal. But without you and the sacrifices you made for the sake of that love … I would never have reached the point where I could go back into the past to change the future. Your love was the key."

Severus shuddered, and wiped a hand across his eyes. "And so I must pay the price, too? Lose her?"

"Yes. I am so very sorry."

"But what good is explaining all this, if you are going to obliviate me?"

"Before I do so, I want you to write a letter to yourself. Explaining the need for what happened, but without the facts, obviously."

Severus nodded dejectedly.

"And … I wish to make up for this as much as I can. You never had a good life, last time. I can't give you Lily, but I can at least keep you from becoming a bitter, frustrated teacher. And you will never have to be a double-spy serving two very demanding masters, one of which was overly fond of repaying the slightest failure with the Cruciatus."

"Who was the other?"

"Dumbledore. He at least only tortured you by continuously offering sweets. And wearing offensively coloured clothing. Not to forget the perpetual twinkling."

Severus gave a weak chuckle at seeing the dignified old man roll his eyes in fond exasperation.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, you were … will be … fantastic at potions. So I want to offer you every chance to become the most renowned and famous potions master ever, who will not have to teach a day of potions in his life."

Jameson smiled at seeing the obvious spark of interest in Severus' eyes.

"Also … once I am conceived, and if you still wish it, I could see about at least fixing your friendship. She is a rather forgiving soul. Personally, I would quite like young Harry to have this brilliant godfather who knows all about potions, and who can help keep him level-headed. And who knows, without the bitterness you developed last time, because you felt guilty for her death … there _are_ other witches out there, you know."

"I suppose so," Severus replied unenthusiastically. "Wait. Does the Minister know any of this?"

"No. I haven't ever told a soul about this, not even Dumbledore. But I felt I owed it to you. Our relationship was always … complicated. Yet it could have been much better, if only you had told me you knew my mother. I only learned that you had been her friend when it was much too late. When you were already dead. So I wanted you to know _why_ I had to do this to you, even if I cannot quite leave you with the explanation."

"Huh. Still can't say I really believe you. But I guess I have no choice anyway," Severus said, eyeing the older wizard.

"Unfortunately, no. However, I do promise to take your regrets away as best as I can."

"Regrets ..."

"Trust me, you need not regret the changes I made … well, aside from Lily. Still, it is only because of changes I already made you even had a chance for winning her in the first place. But I need to be born so ..." the old wizard gave him a sorrowful look.

And pushed a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill at Severus.

So he started writing, burying his regrets as best as he could.

Maybe regrets were easier when they were at least not the consequences of your own actions?

And when the one who had dropped your stitch was promising to pick it up again.

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